


The Dignity of a Lady

by Lu_luebells



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - Pride and Prejudice Fusion, Crossover, F/M, Original Character(s), although tragedy does strike, angst if you squint, brownie points if you know which ball they are at, so far just fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lu_luebells/pseuds/Lu_luebells
Summary: Tight corsets, ruffled skirts and white in every corner of the room; the night had promised to be a joy. If only because of the amusement your dear friend gave you and the appearance of a man the entire county had been buzzing about for months. However, that night it wasn't the same man everyone else sought-after who shook you so. No, it was someone else entirely unexpected.The Pride and Prejudice and BTS crossover no one asked for (besides me).Re-uploaded from tumblr
Relationships: Kim Seokjin | Jin & Reader, Kim Seokjin | Jin/Reader, Kim Seokjin | Jin/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	The Dignity of a Lady

_ 1820 _

Music swelled and burst into your ears upon entering the large, yet congested, room. A chorus of strings filling the gaps between chatter and laughing. Seas of skirts and tailcoats swirling in rehearsed circles in the center of the room, faces reddened and joyous, partly from dancing and partly from drinking. Others lined the room, wine in hand and speaking pleasantly to one another. You were anxious to begin socializing yourself, carefully avoiding the corners of the room where a few men bent toward a lady’s ear, speaking of things which they were less inclined to bellow out amongst friends. Glancing around at all the faces as you glided by, you searched for one in specific as best as one could when constantly bowing and smiling at guests who addressed you warmly. People of all sorts had shown up to the ball, though it was expected when Charles Bingley, a very wealthy man with high stature, threw a ball.

It was no secret that your own family was blessed enough to own one of the most expensive houses in the area as well. Sure enough, you had fine furnishings and frankly, desired nothing which was unavailable to you when it came to material possessions. Many people desired to be in the position you were, both men and women. Girls leered at you in jealousy while men approached you with nothing but an advantageous marriage in mind. You learned to not let it bother you though, taking solace in the company of people who truly did love you for you.

“Sophia!” You exclaimed upon finally finding your friend. Sophia was a beautiful young woman, about the same age as you. Ever since you could remember, you two had been friends, mostly on account of your mothers being close as well.

“Y/N!” She squealed in return, pulling you in close, or at least as close as your skirts would allow, for a tight hug. “When did you arrive?”

“Not ten minutes ago,” you grinned at her, “you are not the easiest of people to find, you know.”

“You act as though being discreet is a bad thing.”

“Is it not, though?” Brows wrinkled, her words confused you. Sophia loved to be in the limelight; she thirsted for attention of any sort, constantly competing to be the woman in the room whom all eyes fell upon and men tripped over themselves for a chance to speak with her.

“Not at all, my dear friend.” She guffawed, threading a delicate arm through yours and gently pulling you to pace slowly towards the next room where music still played, only now it was piano and no man or woman danced as they did in rooms previous. “You must wait for the prize to arrive before you throw in all your cards for it.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you responded, “and who, might I inquire, is the prize for this evening?”

“Mr. Bingley, of course.” She stated as though to say, ‘who else?’

You couldn’t help an astonished look from adorning your face. “You cannot be serious.” Sophia merely giggled under her breath. “Have you not heard that he already has his eye on one of the Bennet sisters?”

Waving a hand in the air frivolously, she disregarded your objection with a simple, “Minor details.”

“You’re mad.” You chuckled.

“Aren’t we all?” She sighed jokingly. The conversation of her target quickly fizzled into your usual banter as the two of you began to make rounds, joining groups of conversation and exiting gracefully when it grew too dull for your liking. Eventually, you found some of your other friends and remained with them for a lengthy amount of time. That is, until the room suddenly seemed to quiet, Sophia looking over her shoulder and nudging you in the side. “Y/N- Y/N, look.”

Craning your neck, you turned in the direction every woman in the room seemed to be looking in to see a man entering. He was tall, that was to be sure, and his shoulders were broader than most men. His hair was a soft brown, his eyes looking to be a deeper shade, though it was hard to tell at such a distance. The threads of the clothes he wore were fine and complimented his physique. You watched wordlessly as someone greeted him, the plumpest pair of lips you’ve ever seen spreading into a smile that made something inside you churn at how beautiful he was. “ _ Who  _ is that?”

“Kim Seokjin. His father is a merchant and the owner of a decent sized company. Meant to take over the whole business, as far as I've heard. Though I will admit that he is quite the sight to behold, I would not waste your time with him.” Sophia mumbled lowly.

Sight still fixed on the man, you murmured, “Why ever not?”

“He’s rumoured to be a rather large flirt, though well on his way to being engaged to Emilia Penhurst.”

And then his eyes caught yours. Cheeks warming under his gaze, normally you would’ve turned away, too embarrassed at being caught staring to dare even glance his way any longer and yet, your eyes lingered. If he found it distasteful, he made no show of it; in fact, his irises hardly left yours either. At least until the company he was with tugged him toward a new group of people. Sophia dragging you back into conversation, you tilted your head toward the group of women, still peering at Mr. Kim out of the corner of your eye and answering only when absolutely required. Something you’ve never quite felt broiled in the pit of your stomach, licking up the walls and making you fiddle with your hands. However, you knew better than to become enamored with an unavailable man; If he was linked to Emilia Penhurst then it was truly over before anything could really begin, her being far wealthier than yourself and therefore a better candidate for someone such as himself. Attempting to shake yourself from your stupor, you begrudgingly detached your line of sight from his, opting to entertain yourself with whatever petty thing your peers discussed.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” As fate would have it, your efforts were for naught as you peered up to see a man you knew quite well with a man you’d rather like to know more.

“Mr. Wakefield.” Bending slightly, you curtsied to your childhood friend for appearances sake. “I see you are back from your venture in the south. Did it all go as planned?”

“Yes, it was all very scenic as you said. My wife wanted to thank you actually for the suggestion to travel down that far, but it seems I’ve lost her to the gardens even at this hour.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You giggled; her carefree nature being the selling point to both you and your dear friend, as it was you who introduced the two of them.

“No, no it wouldn’t be, would it?” He grinned good naturedly before gesturing to the man beside him. “This is Kim Seokjin, a friend I made in London.”

Curtsying, your eyes flickered to the tall man beside him, only to find him already staring at you. Doing your best to maintain your composure, you said warmly, “Y/N Y/L/N. What brings you so far north, Mr. Kim?”

“Mr. Wakefield invited me. I don’t leave London much you see,” his voice was honey to your ears. “He said it was a shame that I’d never seen the countryside.”

“Is that so?” You inquired politely. “You like the city that much? Many of us out here find it stifling.”

“Oh, it is.” He concurred. “Unfortunately, that is where my business lies and it’s not wise to leave for too long.”

“No, I suppose it’s not.” You smiled, a gesture which he returned, each of you wrapped up in one another and blind to the fact that while everyone had been waiting for a chance to slip into the conversation too, they’d given up and left you to your own devices.

“London does have its good traits as well.” He continued, your eyebrow rising in question. “Plenty of people and diversions, wonderful gardens, and on occasion, the scenery can be quite eye catching too.”

“Well it seems I’ve underestimated the city then.”

“You’ve not been?”

“Never,” you responded. “Father says it’s much too large and congested.”

“Perhaps a visit would change your notion.” He replied, a hint of suggestion in his tone.

“Perhaps.” Your voice was light, the slightest hint of a smirk toying at your lips. “And have you made a verdict on the north? Are you enjoying the scenery as much as London or has it fallen short?”

“I have and I can assure you Miss. Y/L/N, I am enjoying the sights very much.” His eyes bore into yours as he made his statement, a blush fanning across your cheeks and an impish smirk plastered across his cushion lips.

Your conversation did not stop there, something about him seemed to bewitch you in a way that no man ever had before. Distantly, you wondered if perhaps this was the leniency toward flirtation which Sophia said he had. Even if it were, you could not bring yourself to care. It was not as though you were out to wed the man, but he was the best company you’d ever found in one, besides your dear Mr. Wakefield. Though that did not count, at least not in this category. Attention drawn to him, time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, scarcely even noticing when Sophia dismissed your company in favor of chasing down Mr. Bingley. As time went on, you found yourself in the ballroom, once again the sight of swishing fabric and the sound of tapping feet invading your senses.

“Do you dance, Mr. Kim?” You inquired, tilting a head toward the dancefloor.

He let out a breathless laugh. “I’m afraid my talents are lacking in that particular area.”

“Ah,” you replied, slightly dejected, “that’s a shame.”

For a moment it was silent as you cast your eyes to the space where couples of all sorts began to gather as Seokjin heaved a sigh and held out his hand. “I suppose one dance would not hurt.”

Giggling you glanced at his soft hand outstretched in front of you before placing your own delicately in his palm. “I would not want to force you.”

“I would be a fool to pass up the chance to dance with a lady such as yourself.” He said calmly, ushering the two of you to the area which you’d been gazing longingly at. “But you must promise not to laugh.”

“A price I think I am willing to pay.” You grinned as he lined up across from you, nervousness making his face slightly pinched.

When the music began you understood why. He was not necessarily the worst dancer you’d ever seen, if only a little awkward. It was no deterrence to you, however. In fact, you found it rather charming, watching as he stiffly moved along to the graceful swell and drop of music all because he wanted to please you. And please you he did. Weaving in and out between bodies, you relished in the time when his skin would make contact with your hand, only to release it as you went your separate ways. The air seemed thick and heavy as each of you only had eyes for one another. An electricity seemed to wrap its threads around your bodies, bringing them ever closer in a way that wasn’t at all physical. For a brief second, you wanted nothing more than to stop him and just  _ be _ . Then the music faded. Clapping politely to honor the musicians, you curtsied to Seokjin and in return he bowed deeply, his irises locked onto yours. Perhaps it was the drink or the whimsical air that balls often held, but in that moment you could have sworn you fell in love.

  
  
  
  


A stinging sensation made its way beneath your eyelids as they snapped open in response to the dip of the carriage. Shaking your head, you pinched the skin of your cheeks, willing the drowsiness away. The past week had been frighteningly uneventful after the rush of the ball, leaving you to dwell on the man whom you were sure would only now be present in your memory. Though it could be seen as impolite, you spent the entire evening in his company after that fateful dance, not once needing anyone else's company to keep either of you entertained. Never before had you grown so attached to someone after only one meeting the way you seemed to have with Mr. Kim. Memories of that night and the way his hand seemed to burn into yours as you whirled in time with the music seemed to plague you. So much so that you’d begun to lose sleep. Tossing and turning in your bed, a feeling of loss hung over your heart for a reason you did not wish to explain, as much as your maids attempted to prod. You knew it was foolish to feel such a way when society would deem you as mere acquaintances, but from just one night, you felt like so much more.

The carriage came to a halt, the Wakefield house standing proudly before you. Sighing wistfully, you willed the sadness from your heart, feeling much like a foolish love struck girl (despite that being precisely what you were). William, your coachman, opened the door for you, providing a hand for stability. A resounding crunch sounded under your shoe as the sole touched the pebbled courtyard. Lifting the weight of your skirt in gloved hands you strode to the door, not hesitating to enter the home when the servants swung open the heavy slabs of elaborately carved wood in time with your footing. A man bowed deeply before you before escorting you to where the small lunch party was being held. You weren't surprised when he led you towards the back gardens; the day was perfect for an outside event. Stopping just before the backdoor, you dropped your skirts, smoothing them as the man who escorted you announced your arrival. Gracefully folding your hands over one another, you joined the gathering.

“Y/N!”

The sound of her soft voice instantly made you crack a grin, her small frame whizzing out of her chair to come embrace you in a, less than elegant, hug. “Clara, how are you?”

“I am well! You were not lying when you said the south would be just what I needed! It was so spectacular I could hardly stand to leave. I would have much preferred to stay rooted in my spot there, much like a tree or perhaps a daisy.” You did not attempt to hide your soft laughter at her wonder and she did not attempt to scold you for it, though her words were spoken in all seriousness. Tugging on your arm, she said enthusiastically, “Come, lets eat!”

Nodding you let her carry you forward, finally letting your eyes wander to the table that had been set up under the shade of a decorative tent. Smiling warmly in recognition toward the other guests, there were only one or two that you could make out so far who you weren’t yet acquainted with. Sophia was there, looking most dreadful after her failed pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and so were the brothers of Mr. Wakefield. Though they sat with a space in between them, which struck you as peculiar as neither were married and you were the last guest to arrive. Fredrick was on the right of his brother George Wakefield, your childhood friend, and a seat away from Fred was who you initially thought was Roger. Except it wasn’t at all.

Just as one of the waitstaff began to pull out your chair between the two men, you could help but blurt out “Mr. Kim?”

His conversation with the man beside him halted and he craned his neck to gaze at you, seemingly unsurprised by your presence as you had been with his. His pillow lips formed the same smile which had been causing you to lose sleep. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss. Y/L/N”

“It is.” You replied, gathering your wits and taking your seat beside him. “I thought you had gone back to London already.”

“I was meant to,” He began, “but some things convinced me to stay for a short while longer.”

In a softer tone, you dared to ask, “was it the scenery?”

A knowing look crossed his features and he responded with a glimmer of playfulness, “among other things.”

You couldn't hide the way heat rose to your cheeks as you bit the inner corner of your lip to try and hide a giddy smile. The best you could do was hope that no one would notice, but you knew better than to think so when both Sophia and Clara were here.

“You are already acquainted then?” Clara questioned, causing both you and Seokjin to turn your heads to look across the table. As soon as your eyes landed on your two friends sitting side by side, you glowered at them, catching on immediately that they’d planned this from Clara’s overbearing grin and Sophia’s indiscreet smirk. 

“What are you talking about, Dearest?” On the other side of Clara, and at the head of the table, George cast his wife a puzzled look, oblivious to the scheme she’d set forth. “I told you that I introduced them at the ball-- ouch!”

George cut off with a yelp, Clara’s hand moving underneath the table as she looked at him with wide eyes. “I was in the garden. Don’t you remember, my love?”

George merely stared at her for a few seconds before his eyebrows shot up and he exclaimed, “Ah, yes! You’re right, dear. It slipped my mind.”

Clara and Sophia’s gaze landed back on you and you swore you were so red you could be likened to a cherry right now. If Seokjin minded their painfully obvious attempt at matchmaking, he did not show it. He simply smiled good naturedly and said, “Just as Mr. Wakefield meant to relay to you, we were introduced at the ball Mr. Bingley hosted.”

“How wonderful!” Clara was a very poor actress; far too over dramatic for her own good.

“I would even dare say that they found each other's company to be most diverting, Clara.” Sophia indulged further. “Isn’t that right, Mr.Kim?”

“I cannot speak for Miss. Y/L/N,” Seokjin’s words hardly registered in your mind as you dreamed about the thrashing of words that you would give your friends for being so bold. But then he continued, “However, on my own part, I will have to admit that yes, I did.”

Your head whipped to the side as your heart pounded at an alarming rate, the blush on your cheeks growing ever-brighter. If it were socially acceptable, you knew that your friends would have squealed at his response. Alas, they merely gaped and giggled before, thankfully, turning their attention somewhere else. Everyone around you talked amongst themselves while you tried to control the electric sensations bouncing all around your body. Seokjin remained quiet at your side, only every speaking when spoken to and you could see his eyes darting to you every few minutes. Just as he looked as though he was about to speak to you, the food arrived.

Clara was always a gracious host, flawlessly covering the spots where George was rather clueless. The lunch she had prepared, or rather her servants prepared, was delicious and there was no lack in conversation. Once the food was cleared, many of the men, including the one whom your eyes could not seem to part from, stood on the terrace which overlooked the Wakefield land discussing the future it held. Meanwhile, the women of the group chatted idly about this and that, though you couldn't seem to join in. Wanting a moment away from your friends, you asked where Clara had planted flowers most recently and excused yourself to take a look.

Standing before the patch of flowers, you shook your head in embarrassment as the events of today played over in your mind. Yet no matter how many times you relived the conversation, what Seokjin had said never ceased to give you butterflies. You knew you had not revealed your side of the answer to Sophia’s suggestion, but frankly you had been scared that anything that had come out of your mouth then would just be a high pitched squabble. A shadow came to stand next to yours and you cast your head to the side, the man of the hour making his appearance once more.

“Everyone has gone for a walk to the gardens,” he said quietly, as though scared of invading your solitude. “I was wondering if you’d care to walk there with me?”

He looked unsure of himself, uncharacteristically so as you smoothed the front of your skirt before answering, “I'd love to.”

Tension seemed to fade from his shoulders, a soft grin playing at his lips as the two of you set off. Gliding across the field, it wasn't long until the rest of the group was in sight, though still quite a distance ahead of you. It was quiet as you walked, but comfortably so as birds and the sounds of nature filled in for your voices as you mustered up the courage to speak.

“I did too.” You broke the silence.

“I’m sorry?” He responded, confusion painting his features before you could elaborate.

“Regarding what Sophia said,” you continued, “I enjoyed your company too.”

He did not answer your confession, but faced forward, a bashful grin adorning his lips as the tips of his ears turned red. A smile tugged at your own lips as another silence ensued, each of you walking just a little bit closer, all too conscious of the space that still separated you and itching to close the gap. The first time, you thought it was a mistake; the skin of the back of his hand brushing against your own gloved one. The second time, you knew it was no accident. Unspoken rules of what was proper and ladylike told you to move away, but you wanted nothing more to reach out to him too. Perhaps it would ruin your reputation but his calling was far stronger than the calling of your conscience and when his hand skimmed against yours for the third time, you threaded your fingers through his. His own fingers reciprocated, folding over your own as the blush from his ears spread to his neck.

“I was worried you’d find Sophia and Clara’s boldness to be… distasteful.” You admitted.

He chuckled at this. “It was not unwarranted.”

You gazed up at him, puzzled. “How do you mean?”

“To tell the truth,” He said shyly, “I asked Mrs. Wakefield to organize today’s gathering.”

“You did?” You said, shocked.

He nodded, looking as though he wished to say more but knew this was not the place to say it so openly. Craning his neck, he searched for prying eyes before tugging you behind a hedge where you would be out of sight. Your back touched against the leaves as his grasp on your hand wilted, his arm dropping to his side. “I’m afraid I must be honest with you.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as you nodded. “I know this may be nonsensical after only spending such a short time together, but I have never met a woman like you.”

“Nor I, you.” The confession slipped past your lips, making his gaze impossibly softer.

“Y/N- I” He fumbled for words, “I think you may have taken my heart from me.”

Your own pulse could be heard in your ears, nearly untraceable puffs of breath fanning against your face from his proximity as you stuttered, “B-but, what about Miss. Penhurst? Aren’t you engaged?”

“No. She wishes to be and my father would like me to be as well, but I am not. We are only acquaintances.” He protested.

“But isn’t that what we are?” His face faltered at your insecurities. “Besides she is much wealthier and could help your business much more than I could.”

“I do not care about matters like that.” He said firmly, his hand reaching for yours and raising it to place the flat of your palm against his heart. “We are acquaintances by society's standards but in here...”

“Seokjin-”

“I’m in love with you, Miss.Y/L/N.” He nearly whispered, his heartbeat reaching out to touch your hand. You stood in silence for a moment before he reaffirmed, “Truly.”

Voice trembling, you murmured, “I love you, too.”

His grip tightened against your hand, an effervescent smile gracing his mouth. “Would it be terribly impolite if I kissed you?”

The answer in every lady's book would of course be yes, and yet you found yourself shaking your head in form of reply. Without a moment's hesitation, his pillowed lips encased yours and in that moment, you swore you’d found something much more pure than a foolish young girl's love.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The silver spoon you held in your hand scraped against the bottom of your teacup as you sifted through letters you’d been sent, only really looking for one sender in particular. It’d been a month since he’d left with promises to soon return with his father, every one of which you’d gobbled right up. The time he had left in the country was nearly all spent with you. Since the confession at the garden, you could hardly stay apart for very long for the entirety of the three weeks before he’d departed. Even after, there wasn’t much time at all in between correspondences. Little white letters holding words of affection that made your heart swoon and your friends fawn. You kept each one in a box which was well hidden beside your bed, each of them marked with a ‘J’ that you traced your finger over every now and then. The nature of your relationship was not public, your own family not even yet knowing. Both of you had agreed that it was best for him to settle his affairs before beginning to ask for blessings to wed. There was also Emilia to deal with.

A commotion in the hall made you look up from the pieces of parchment in your hands, the sound of running coming closer to the room you were situated in. Furrowing your brows, you were about to inspect the situation when the door burst open, startling you. Sophia barreled in, a furious look contorting her, otherwise perfect, face. Your maid was close behind her, glancing at you in panic.

“I’m very sorry, Ma’am. I tried to stop her but she-”

“Not to worry, Anne. It’s quite all right.” You assured her. She nodded and left the room while Sophia continued pace with heavy thuds. “Sophia, whatever is the matter?”

“I cannot believe him! The gall of that man! How could he be so wretched?” She raved and if you didn't know any better, you would've thought you could see steam coming out of her ears.

“Who?”

“Mr. Kim, of course!” She exclaimed, glancing at you and finally realizing that you had no clue as to what she was talking about. Her features dissipated from anger into sympathy. “Do you not- oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry. Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” You replied, befuddled.

“I’m so sorry.” She repeated. “Clara and I- we never should have organized the lunch that day and then none of this would have happened. I was so shocked when I heard. This is entirely our fault for urging you to see that deplorable man.”

“Sophia would you please tell me what is going on before I call Anne back to escort you out?”

“Y/N, he-” She cut off, the sorrow in her tone making your stomach curl up in knots. “My cousin is in London and she ran into Emilia Penhurst and she well‒ she announced the date for their wedding.”


End file.
